S A R A

Ch 40

I was waiting beneath the porch as the taxi pulled up, in an attempt to convince myself that the weather wasn't going to be as bad as everyone said.

But that was hard, since the rain was beating down hard. When I got into the taxi, it seemed lie the windshield wipers were berating their last breath, trying their best to keep up and still not going fast enough at their quickest setting to completely clear the buckets of this tropical hurricane. Though already an urban jungle, Los Angles turned into a real jungle in a matter of hours.

"Let's see,"...the cab driver moved his fingers down the clipboard, "Sara? Sara going from Santa Ana to Beverly Hills?"

"Thats right!" I piped up, trying to seem cheery. Trying to seem like taking what would be an hour ride on a regular day in the middle of a hurricane in the dark is a regular thing to do for a girl traveling alone, made up and all.

"You do know how much it costs, right?" He asked, eyeing me in the mirror.

Of course I knew, the operation on the phone made it clear that yes, in fact the Santa Ana cab company does drive to Beverly Hills, and it is $110, subject to change based on the conditions.

"Sums over $100 need to be prepaid upfront," he told me, not taking his eyes off of me, suspicious no doubt.

I was quick to put his doubts to rest as I pulled out the credit card out of my purse and showed it to him.

He raised his eyebrows, and causally picked up the card machine from somewhere deep inside the dashboard.

He put his hand out, not turning back to look at me for the card. I gave it to him, a little bit delirious at the sass he was providing. Yes the weather was shit, but its not like I was trying to make a run for it in his car.

After what seemed too many moments for a credit card machine to work, the taxi driver clucked his tongue.

"It's not working."

"Do you need another card?" I began to search through my bag.

"No, the machine. Its not working." He told me complacently.

First the storm now this. I looked into my wallet and saw that I only had $10 in cash with me. Only $100 short of what he was asking, and thats not counting the tips. I wanted to desperately call the operator and demand a new taxi, but this driver as angry as he was, was not about to lose business.

"I'll take you to the ATM. Who are you with?" I realized he was asking me in regards to banks.

I didn't want to do this, but I most definitely was not going to turn around now. Even when the operation on the phone so clearly assured me that they took cards.

"Yeah, theres a TD a few blocks away," I told him.

I was jumping in headfirst.

Even that drive there took longer than a few blocks.

As he arduously pulled up over the curb and next to the bank, I took a deep breath and bolted for the door, trying to avoid getting washed away by the buckets of rain coming down.

There was only two other people in the bank. Two guys, slightly older than me, looked at me comically as if it was fine to be there for them but not me. Though we were portably both worse off for getting out. Either we were very brave or very stupid, and I wasn't yet sure which one it was going to be.

I stumbled through the buttons on the ATM, debating how much cash to take out, and decide that double of what I needed would be the safer way to go.

I got back in the cab and when I gave him the cash, what was required plus a generous tip for both of our sakes, his mood seemed to lighten significantly.

And we were off, driving towards the ramp to the highway. From there on it would be straight until I was in his arms again!

"What do you think, how are the highways?" I asked, with some concern even though I was doing my best to conceal it.

"I was on there earlier, its much better now," he replied promptly, though I wasn't sure for whose sake.

"I guess at least theres no traffic," I replied in a half joke.

"Yeah..." he replied absentmindedly, but I saw his white knuckle grip on the wheel.

I could tell he thought I was crazy for the both of us to not only go myself but to force him on this road with me.

I was right, though. There was a significant decrease in traffic, but that wouldn't make us go any faster. In fact, it was raining so hard and so windy that at one point I thought that the taxi cab itself would flip over, feeling more like a tuna can then a sturdy vehicle. It was a small car with a cheap, plastic interior that did not make me feel any safer.

I was nervous, my hands in my lap, also a white knuckle grip but on my phone.

Suddenly, it lit up and my heart jumped and as soon as I saw it, H, I relaxed.

How is it going?

I knew now that this was all going to work out. I looked at the driver's dash and saw that it was almost 10:30 but we were also getting close.

Great. It'll probably be closer to 11. Where am I going then? -P.

He texted me his address, a constant change of addresses between bachelor pads across Beverly Hills and Los Angeles in order to avoid getting found. Only this time, it had a unit ; this was an apartment. This would be the first time I'd ever seen him in an apartment. We were always in sprawling houses on beautiful properties facing the sunset or the ocean or the hills.

I looked up the address on my phone, and gave the driver the nearest intersection since it seemed like this apartment was in a bustling area and off a large street.

Things got significantly better when we started getting off the highway and into the more active part of the city, since at least there was some life there. Though still, among the lights, there was much less people than usual. We rode by a man, clearly deranged, running around shirtless and yelling 'He is coming! He is coming!'

No turning back. I repeated to myself, trying to summon up my courage.