Fate Comes Calling

Dennis wished Freya all the best, showing her a thumbs up, as he dropped her off for her big interview. He was standing next to his black and yellow wage earner. Not all days were bad. Sometimes he got passengers like Freya who made him feel more alive than the rest of the zombies driving their cabs on the roads of Stuttgart. He had felt the adrenaline rush when he whizzed past the other cars, as he tried to get the desolate and sobbing girl to her interview in time. The satisfaction of meeting the deadline was equal only to the look of awe and gratification on Freya’s face. Dennis loved his job. Or at least he tried to, ever since fate had trampled upon and squashed his dreams. He could lose the attire though. The black blazer and the red tie made him stuffy. Somehow though, he liked his cap. It reminded him of the helmet he used to wear.

Dennis got back into the cab. It had been a busy day. He had not had a chance to eat lunch. It was almost time for him to get back home. He had been driving since five that morning. He yawned as he realized he had been driving for a better part of twelve hours.

He decided to head back to his lonesome hold. Enough rides for today. All he wanted to do now was to sit back, spread his legs and enjoy a pint or few of his favourite Belgian wit. As he was pulling up to his house street, he saw a middle aged man, wearing a large overcoat which hung loosely on his slant body frame. He was gesturing to him to stop. Most cabbies would have ignored another ride when heading back home, but Dennis was different. Ahh! What the hell! He had no family to go back to. Dennis stopped his cab next to the man hailing him.

The man hurriedly got in the cab and banged the passenger door behind him.

‘Hohenheimer Street, bitte.’ the man said in an urgent tone. 

Dennis complied, kicking himself. Hohenheimer was all the way to the far end of the town. His beers would have to wait another hour.

The man’s phone rang. He answered right away. ‘Yes, Yes. I’m on the way.’ He paused, listening intently on the other end. ‘Thirty minutes max. Have the room prepped up and the assistants ready.’ He muttered a bit more mostly in yes and no, and finally after giving an approving grunt hung up.

A hush fell over in the cab. Dennis’ mind reminded him of his tiredness. His body started to ache. He needed a distraction.

‘So, busy day huh?’ Dennis asked his passenger. He half expected the man might not answer.

‘Same as always, I guess. Perks of being a surgeon.’ the man replied almost instantly.

‘Ohh! I hope the money takes some of the sting away from all this running around.’ Dennis replied, trying to be clever.

The man chuckled. ‘Yeah. Some.’

It was then that the man looked in the rear view of the mirror and noticed Dennis. His eyes became thoughtful, trying to remember. As realization dawned upon him, his face changed from a deep thinking canvas to an exhilarated, unbelieving one.

‘Donnie Schwein? Donnie! Auber sich vor Freude!’ The man was overjoyed. ‘I can’t believe I am in a car with the Rusher.’

For a moment, Dennis was chuffed that one of his passengers had recognized him. The feeling of blissfulness didn't last long as Dennis realized what was to come next.

‘Oh Donnie! Where have you been? You just vanished.’ Dennis could only nod.

‘My wife is not going to believe me. I am a huge fan. So is she. Actually, you won’t believe this but the first time we met, we didn’t have anything in common. It was an awful date. And then you came up. We talked for hours about you, your victories, your maneuvers in the Mclaren, your rivalry with Kentins, your crash. In a way, you are the reason we are together.’ The man gabbed on without reading the situation.

Dennis chuckled. It was a sad chuckle. ‘I’m glad my accident brought happiness to some.’

The statement had its desired effect. It shut the man up.

Tentatively he began again. ‘Hey, I apologies. I didn’t mean it that way. I am just too excited. Blabbering like a groupie is not the way I normally act.’ That made Dennis laugh.

‘No offence taken. I am glad I ran into an admirer.’ Dennis nodded to the man, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror. The man had a wide smile on his face.

The man began tentatively again. ‘Why didn’t you ever go back to the racetrack? Digga, you were invincible.’

This was not the first time Dennis had been asked this question. The answer to this question is what feared him the most.

‘I was done with racing. I did not think it was my calling.’ Dennis replied after taking a long pause.

‘And driving cabs? Is this your calling?’ The man immediately countered.

The statement left Dennis speechless. 

‘The crash scared you away, didn’t it?’ The man asked.

‘Lay off. You don’t know half of it.’ Dennis retaliated, obviously feeling as if he was being attacked.

‘Donnie. I’m a doctor. I operate on patients with traumas and serious injuries all the time. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Fear has levelled the best of us. The important thing is to get back up. The only way to do that is to put yourself in similar situations and face your fears.’

When Dennis didn’t say anything, the doctor replied. ‘You know, let’s make it simpler. We are about twenty minutes away from Bethesda clinic. Make it there in ten minutes and I will pay you a thousand euros.’

‘I don’t want your money.’ Dennis hissed.

‘Then do it to prove me wrong. I think you are weak. Fearful of driving fast, afraid of crashing again. You have lost all confidence in your skill.’

That seemed to hit Dennis deeper than he would have expected. Never once had he been called weak. He slammed hard on the accelerator and straightened his back. He was going for it. He would show the man. 

The car whizzed past the others. The man, who had been reclining forward, was shoved back into the seat. He held onto the grab handle on the side ceiling of the car. His expressions were a combination of fear, awe and excitement.

Dennis had one hand on the gear and was using the other to steer. The tires screeched time and again as he successfully maneuvered the car through traffic. At times, the doctor in the back seat shrieked in a high pitched tone, when they were about to crash into another car, but every single time, Dennis pulled out some trick from his bag of genius. 

The bodies of both men were dallying sideways with the motion of the car, but their eyes remained fixed. Dennis’ expressions were wild. His eyes were bursting with the effort of keeping focused. His hands gripped tightly onto the steering and the gear. His tired legs moved with the agility of a cheetah between the accelerator, the clutch and the breaks. Dennis drifted the car right as a turn came up and then immediately shifted left to avoid hitting into a SUV. He turned the steering around completely, throwing the car into a centrifugal curve and immediately pulled the handbrakes, once the car had rotated completely. 

‘There. Your hospital.’ Dennis said, hardly keeping the arrogance from his tone. He felt his body relax and the adrenaline die down. His hands were imprinted with the calluses due to holding the steering too tightly.

The doctor opened his eyes. He didn’t remember when he had closed them. Seeing his destination out of the window of the car, he sighed in relief. ‘That was awesome.’ 

‘Yeah! It was.’ Dennis agreed.

‘So does that mean you will go back to racing?’ The doctor asked eagerly.

Dennis was nodding. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ He turned around and gave a big smile to his passenger.

The man fidgeted in his upper pocket of the shirt, under his loosely worn cloak.

‘Here.’ the man said, handing over his card to Dennis. ‘Whenever you decide to get back, please let me know. I will come and cheer with you, with my wife and kids.’

Dennis glanced at the card. ‘Sure, Jacques.’

Jacques thanked Dennis profusely as he got out of the car. 

On his way back, Dennis was already thinking of ways to get back to racing. As soon as he reached home, he got in touch with his coach. For the next few months, he trained his body and his mind. The memory of his life altering crash was still fresh in Dennis’ mind, but he fought them everyday. Soon enough, those haunting memories faded away into oblivion.

The day had finally arrived. The stadium was blasting in anticipation of the surprising, unanticipated and totally ground shattering return of Donnie Schwein, the Rusher. Jacques was sitting with his wife and kids in the front row, facing the lineup of cars. He excitedly pointed to the race car in yellow with white, racing stripes. Dennis was seated in the car, wearing a white helmet, covered with yellow stripes. 

Jacques waved at Dennis, hoping he would see and wave back. He repeatedly kept shouting to anyone who might listen. ‘I made that happen. I made him return.’