An Unexpected Taxi Ride

Diego Flores de Nova

George walked down the untidy, partly sunken Chicago sidewalks. There was a bit of snow on the edge of the pavement, up against the building walls. December was fast approaching. He was walking around the Loop, as he had just recently ended his shift. He was thinking about quitting his accounting job soon. Although he was extremely good at it, George hated it, and people thought he was boring. But he had created the incredible security software that encrypted his company’s data.

His phone rang. He dipped one of his oversized hands in his right pocket and pulled it out of the dark gray coat resting on his shoulders. He answered.

“Hi Julian! I’m just getting a taxi, I’ll see you in like 20 minutes,” he said into the phone speaker.

“Ok, but hurry up dude, the DJ just arrived and his music is sick!”

“Ok, see you soon.” Why did I agree to this? George thought regretfully. I don’t like parties.

He hung up and stroked his rugged brown hair. It was short hair that paired well with the stubble beard on his face.

The 23-year-old man had broad shoulders and a symmetrical face. Most would call him handsome, but no one cared about him enough to do so. George only really knew Julian, his college friend, who desperately tried to get him to talk to people. His brown, worried eyes, matching his hair, followed a bright yellow car that drove around the corner. George swiftly raised his right arm and yelled, “Taxi, over here!”

He walked over to where the vehicle stopped, illuminated by the shining street lamps in the dark sky.

“Hello,” the driver said, “where would you like to go tonight?”

The driver accelerated as soon as he was given the party’s address. George hunched. The driver is wearing a face mask, is he one of those germaphobes? He thought, frowning. His mother had told him to be careful of weird people like that. She had also told him not to hunch.

After about five minutes, the yellow 2013 Skoda Octavia made a left turn. Julian’s friend’s house was to the right. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I think you made a wrong turn,” George said, trying to hide his annoyance.

“I know,” the driver said. He was a thin man, taller than George, about 5’8 by his estimations, although it was hard to tell while they sat. George was only 5 feet and 3 inches. George was nervous.

“Excuse me?” he said, failing to hide his anxiety. “Where are we going? I would like to get off here, thank you.” George began to sweat.

“I can’t let you do that,” the driver calmly responded. He had brown hair, similar to Georges, but a bit darker. He hadn’t gotten a good look at his face yet.

“I demand to get out of this car right now!” George yelled. He was panicking.

“Can you just shut up? You’re gonna help me with something, I’ll fill you in later.”

George had seen documentaries of kidnappings, and he did not want to be a part of one. A phone rang. The driver cursed under his breath and answered his phone.

“Hi B. Yeah, he’s here. Right now? Shouldn’t we do some recon first? I guess you’re right: I did work at that warehouse for a while.”

The car stopped at a red light. I can leave. Did this maniac lock the doors? I’m done for if he did. What if he hurts me? George was considering his options. He wasn’t sure if the driver had a weapon, but he was too afraid to find out. It’s now or never. Okay. I got this. He took a deep breath and prepared to make his move.

The light outside turned green and the car accelerated. George missed his opportunity. Annoyed at himself, he decided to pay attention to his captor’s call.

“Fine, I’ll go back to the apartment after the data is revealed. We got this, besides, I already know exactly what to do with the computer.” The driver hung up, awkwardly cleared his throat, and accelerated. Data? Computer? Maybe he wants to rob the Apple Store, but that would be too difficult, and it’s not even in this direction. Why me? What does he want with me? Does he even know who I am? Did he pick me up specifically? How would he even know where I was? And who’s this “B” person? So many questions, so much to think about. But suddenly, it all clicked. Worblee, the online technology company, had a warehouse a couple blocks from the taxi. It would be the perfect heist; the warehouse isn’t too populated since it’s just used for shipping out products. They have some incredibly advanced computers. George was quite sharp, although not many people knew that about him. Well, it mostly all clicked. He still didn’t know why he was needed. He lost his train of thought as the car drove through a conveniently broken fence into a large parking lot. The driver had also turned off the headlights.

“Stay here,” he said as he stepped out and made a call on his phone.

George complied and peered out the window. He was parked on the edge of a big parking lot with another smaller area filled with cargo crates and shipping containers to the side of a building, sectioned off by an open gate. He could not see how far it went. Said main building was a wide, two story concrete box with the Worblee logo carved into the side. George was right, but he wasn’t too content about it. The driver ended his phone call about a minute later and pulled George out of the car just before taking a small hiking backpack out of the glovebox.

“Stay quiet or we’ll have trouble,” his captor said in a low, stern voice.

The pair crouch walked into the area with the containers and boxes where they had more cover. The driver lifted a small box and picked up a key from under it, then promptly kept moving. George was somewhat intrigued, and oddly trusting, though his fear hadn’t changed much. Everything is already prepared. This must be big, George thought. The broken fence, the key under that box, I’ve never seen anything like this before. They stopped at a door that, when opened by the key, let them into a large room with all sorts of boxes and products with a hallway to the right. The lights were off. George didn’t have much time to study his surroundings before the other man pushed him down behind a large wooden box that covered him from the flashlight shining in their direction. The person with the flashlight, probably a security guard, continued his route and kept walking. George had barely registered what was going on before they went into a room labeled “Display Room” down the hallway.

The driver breathed heavily and let out a sigh of relief as he took a flashlight out of his backpack. When George’s dark eyes adjusted to the light he saw a smaller room with different TV and PC models on standing desks made of elm gray wood and stainless steel supports.

“Alright, listen up,” the supposed taxi driver said. “This big computer here is powerful enough to-”

“Hold on!” George rightfully interrupted, “Who are you?

Why do you want me for your robbery? I’m tired of being in the dark!” His face was red.

The driver gave no thought to George’s sudden outbreak and began talking quickly. “I can’t tell you much, they could be listening. If I’m correct, you gave an accounting firm the ability to hide anything they did thanks to your software.”

“Yeah, so?”

“They have been using it to embezzle a small percentage of money for hospital saving funds through this company every time someone puts in money. They’ve stolen 196 million dollars.” George’s eyes widened. “I can’t tell you who I work for, but we don’t have the budget to buy the hardware needed to hack them and reveal it to the public. You made it, so you should know how to do that. You have about 30 minutes before a guard comes by here and takes us to jail.”

As George worked he reminded himself that this was the right thing to do. They took his work and used it for evil, which did make him mad. He told himself it was the best way to go about this, but was it?

A couple days later articles and newspapers all over the country came out with shocking headlines: Large Accounting Firm Lies about Everything and Stole 200 million from Hospitals or George Anderson’s Market-Breaking Security Software Exploited for 200 Million Dollars in Embezzled Money. George told all the news outlets he was relieved to hear that an anonymous vigilante organization hacked the company and revealed their secrets, but the authorities were still looking for someone.

About a week went by before George and Julian were hanging out at the park. “You got so lucky dude. If it went any other way the company would have blamed you or something, but it worked out and now you’re famous!”

“Yeah,” George responded, “Thank goodness.” He sighed. Such a crazy thing it was, that night. Helping out a mysterious vigilante, destroying his own work, evading security! Hey, maybe he’d be popular now. His phone rang.

“Hello?” George said into the microphone.

“Hi,” the familiar yet distorted voice responded. “I hear a big medicine manufacturer is spreading some fake miracle pill. You in?”

George smiled.

Mientras tú andabas por las calles hablando mal de mí, yo era más fuerte de lo que creí. Tú creías que estaba perdiendo amigas, pero en realidad ellas te ignoraban a tí. Ahora no somos amigas, lo que sí es que aprendí mucho de tí. Al final eras muy mala para mí.

Te lo dedico con mucho corazón. Sabes quien eres, pero igual tengo razón.

Pia Lanzagorta

El niño desobediente Maria Sepulveda

Cuando estaba en el camión, vi la razón.

Del niño que quería sentarse con su amigo, él era un ardido.

Y sin sentido, él hacía mucho ruido. No obedecia. Él niño solo sonría.

The Sunflower: How Time Passes

Isabella de la Macorra

Seeking after the warm sun was the sunflower Sitting on the kitchen counter as it spun It changed to be slower with the seasons The flower grinned toward the sun winning its heat

Ah, the sunflower!

Who counts the steps of the sun

The same cycle is done, showing no glow Looks away with desire, for where it wishes to go And her cycle is done when the snow has come