Don Miguel's

***
Mary's disease was already well advanced the first time I picked her up. I believe she suffered from MS although she never mentioned it. She had difficulty walking from the bank to the cab. I came around to help but she refused me saying cheerfully,

"It's good for me to exercise."

When she got in, I asked her how she was.

"Every day we're alive is a blessing," she told me.

I picked her up about every other week after that - either at her home or at the bank where she was a high ranking administrator. I only realized how high when a thirty-something, middle-managing, Standford MBA type came sheepishly forward as I about to drive away so he could get her to sign some papers and kiss her butt.

Mary simply didn't act like a person with power. She showed no arrogance, no sense of superiority, no need to control, no need to demean. She was one of a handful of true egalitarians that I've ever met.

She didn't just make "conversation with the cabbie" like most people in her position would. She actually enjoyed talking to me and was truly interested what I did and my ideas. I soon began thinking of her as a friend and looked forward to seeing her.

Her condition rapidly deteriorated and within a few months she not only accepted my help in walking her to my cab but depended upon it. A few weeks afterward, she handed in her resignation and retired. She said that she looking forward to relaxing and re-reading the great Russian novels - a passion we both shared.

I hadn't seen her for a couple of months when I took a call at Mary's home. She'd gone down hill fast. She was now using a walker and being helped by a tall, blond woman in her thirties that I learned was her niece, Grace.

Grace had come from Fresno to help nurse Mary who was clearly excited to see me. She talked and gossiped about various drivers who had become part of her social circle. Every now and then Grace would politely ask who somebody was and then silently listen to us converse.

The next time I picked them up, a few weeks later, I gave Grace a warm hello. She ignored me. In fact, she cut off my greeting before I got the second syllable out.

"Don Miguel's!" She snapped, "and we're in a hurry. We're already late thanks to you!"

"I took the call two minutes ago," I said.

She waved my words off with a hostile expression.

"I really don't  have time for chitchat - we're late for an appointment."

All this time Mary was slowly working her walker down a set of stairs. I started up to help her and had just about reached her when Grace snapped.

"Leave her alone! Exercise is good for her."

"I thought you were in a hurry," I said.

She looked at me and started to say one thing but just shrugged and said,

"Suit yourself. Just make it snappy!"

Mary looked at me with huge eyes and a helpless expression but didn't say a thing as I helped her into the car.

"You know where Don Miguel's is don't you?" Grace continued in the same demeaning tone of voice.

"I've never heard of it," I told her truly looking at Mary who continued to silently stare at me. What did she want to say?

"It's a very popular place," Grace insisted.

"It can't be that popular or I would've heard of it."

"Don't be insolent!" she snarled. "I thought you were supposed to know where everything is?"

"There are over 10,000 bars and restaurants in this town. Nobody knows them all."

"If I was a cabbie, I'd know," she told me condescendingly. "It's part of doing a job properly."

'Just like the way you nurse,' I thought to myself without saying it. Mary obviously would pay for any sarcasm on my part.

"Let me call my dispatcher."

He didn't know where Don Miguel's was either.

"We'll," Grace snapped, "We'll just get another cab."

I helped Mary get out of the cab and as I drove away, she followed me with those huge eyes. They were no longer a puzzle to me. What they showed was terror and despair.

Several years later I stumbled across Don Miguel's in a back alley and thought of Mary. I wondered if she was still living in hell or if her disease had feed her.