“There’s no Ice in Heaven or Hawaii “
(Unless it’s in the Mai Tai you are sipping in the afterlife)
I recently flew from LA into Austin just as the city was having another bout of sudden and severe wintry weather. Texas is home to a variety of wild and wooly climate changes. It is not uncommon for temperatures to drop forty or fifty degrees overnight. So after several sunny 70degree days, ice and sleety rain had moved through town, battering rooftops, and highways. High winds and a cold front had lowered temperatures into the twenties. These extreme shifts came as a shock when I first moved here 11 years ago, but I am accustomed to it now. I am adept at toggling the thermostat back and forth from heat to cool and I have learned to watch the nightly weather report and to trust their predictions no matter how far-fetched they seem. “80 today going to down to 20,” you say? Okay, then. I believe.
So, it was a wet, cold welcome as I made my way through the parking garage to the taxi queue. Ride-share usage is complicated at the airport so I often rely on the tried-and=true cab service. The first car in line had no distinct taxi markings--no yellow paint, no sign on the roof to indicate availability. It was just a sedan, what in New York City we used to call a Gypsy cab. This is no longer an acceptable term, many apologies to the Romany people but it is what we called them in darker ages.) The driver was a large friendly black man with a wide smile. Ahead of me in line was a family of seven, which his car could not accommodate. I watched as he walked them down the queue until he found a vehicle that could take them to their destination. This was a good sign. Maybe he was a bit of a rogue, this let’s say indie driver, but he was clearly a nice fellow. I handed him my always-too-heavy-because-I-never-learn suitcase. It was cold and I was ready to be home sipping Chardonnay and sorting through ten days of mail. Mostly junk, of course, but I enjoy the ritual. Upon pouring a second glass I would begin the other tradition of unpacking a suitcase full of clothes I did not wear, which now need to be ironed because I try to travel lightly but …
“Where are you going?” he asked me as he got behind the wheel.. I couldn’t quite place his accent, but he sounded like an islander. Jamaica maybe? St. Croix? I gave him my address but could see he had no device to plug it into, no phone app or GPS, so I offered parameters as well. “It’s off of Slaughter,” I said. “To the west. If you can get there, I can guide you”
“Oh, Ya. now I know how to go to Slaughter,” he assured me, and off we went.
“Where are you from,” I asked.
“Where do you think I am from?” he replied.
“Not sure. Maybe the islands?”
He stopped the car and turned around. “I am from Heaven,” he said with a cheeky grin as if daring me to question it.
“Ah, I see,” I answered. “Must feel like a long way from home on a night like tonight.”
“This ice is no good,” he said, and then turned his attention to driving.
I snapped my seatbelt on and settled back into my usual routine: Text Shauna, neighbor, friend, house sitter, that I am OTW. See if anyone has played their turn in Words since I was on the tarmac in LA. I felt the car skid a bit, as we turned left heading to the 71. ‘Must have cranked the wheel too sharply’ I thought. He made his way gingerly up the on-ramp and onto the highway where cars whizzed past as if there was no risk afoot.
“You see these people! They drive so … crazy, gonna cause a trouble.”
“Well, you can take your time,” I said, sensing that he was a bit off of his game. “I am not in a hurry.”
I would like to say that I sat back and took in the rhythm of the rain patting against my window and the way the lights shone in the distance. I would like to say that I tried to find the moon to see if it was still following me the way it did when I was a child. In those days I could look and look at the world passing by my window and never cease to wonder.
I looked at my phone.
“I missed it!” he cried with alarm. “I pass the Slaughter! I could not see it in the shadow,”
I looked up. We had indeed missed it. “It’s okay,” I said. We can just take the next one and circle back. It’s not a big deal.”
These words did not calm him. I braced as I felt the car lurching rightward. He went across two lanes at lightning speed. Once on the feeder road, he sped across two more, aiming for the first turn into the shopping mall. It was too near, so he hung a hard right, and then we began to spin and spin and spin. We landed facing exiting traffic, and those folks unhelpfully began to honk their horns at us as If this was our intention all along, to block them in as if there had not been an incident on the ice.
“Okay,” I said, “We need to back up slowly. Don’t worry about the honking; we are fine. You did just fine.”
“The ice is so crazy I miss the Slaughter in the shadows” He was clearly shaken now.
“It’s just a rough night,” I assured him. “We just need to back up and then we can go in the mall and turn left on Slaughter. We are doing just fine.”
A casting director friend once told me “I can tell you’re nervous when you are unnaturally calm and confident.”
Yep.
We made it to my home, and my now sweating and, I swear, pale islander, sweet-but-stressed cab–driver-of-not-a-cab got out to retrieve my ridiculous suitcase,
“You okay?” I asked as he hefted the bag with no effort.
He did not answer. He was not okay.
“My friend,” I said, There is a Starbucks three blocks down the road. Go have a tea and then go home and get some rest. Let’s leave the driving to the mere mortals tonight, yeah?.” I tilted my head. “They are used to this weather. There is no ice in heaven.”
He smiled then, wide and warm, but without the cheek and swagger. “Goodnight.’” He turned.
“Go home, okay?” I said with care.
“Yes, yes go home.” He glanced back. “Too many shadows.”
Indeed.
Next week we will talk of ice again and this time it will involve wives tales and orchids. I am an orchid whisperer. Mine have bloomed and re-bloomed for decades Here is a hint though. There is no ice in Hawaii, unless …
On we go …
P.S. I tipped him generously. Crazy ride but he meant well and he is from heaven after all.
Loving this. Keep going please!! no nice to see your voice.