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Elise Wilk
136
that’s less popular, I can’t
remember what it’s called.
I inherited the CDs from a
buddy of mine, also a taxi
driver like me. He died last
year.
You know how some drivers
hang crosses and rosaries
and those tree-shaped air
fresheners from their rear
view mirrors? Well, I’ve got
a baby tooth hanging from
mine. And that’s from a dead
person too. Well, not quite
dead, but almost dead.
I don’t really like to tell this
story. But I want to tell you
because you seem like good
people. Really, you do! In
20 years of taxi driving, I’ve
become an expert at reading
people. I can tell you’re
decent. I don’t just say this
kind of thing to anyone, so
you should feel proud about
that.
The baby tooth belonged
to my son. It happened one
Thursday. Next month will be
12 years since it happened,
but it feels like only yesterday.
My son was 9 years old and
his friend from the block was
about 10 or 11. His namewas
Bobby and he had this thick
unibrow. Hewas at our house
all thetime.Heateeverymeal
at our dining table where my
wife would serve himand our
son. On that particular day, I
was home sleeping because
I worked the night shift.
The kids were out on the
balcony. This boy, Bobby, had
an idea for a ‘competition.’
Whoever could lean over the
balcony the farthest would
win. I found out about this
game a few days after the
accident, from a neighbor’s
son who was watching from
his window.