A Long Taxi Ride

Here it is, in its entirety, my short story A Long Taxi Ride! Its was published in the 2009 edition of the Milwaukee Area Technical College Literary Magazine, The Phoenix. I have posted it here in the form that it appeared in the magazine. I am interested in hearing any feedback that you have about it. So, without further ado, here it is!

A Long Taxi Ride

It is a long taxi ride from Derrick’s apartment in Shinjuku to Narita Airport, and I am dead tired. Well, maybe not dead tired but exhausted all the same. The wake, the funeral, the cremation, the spreading of his ashes in the ocean, the memorial services, and the nights out in his honor are all behind me now. I have been in Tokyo for 14 days, 14 long days, and now I want to go home so I can mourn the loss of my best friend my own way.

It is hard to believe that Derrick is gone. He has been my best friend for 30 of my 35 years on this planet, and now he is gone. The little black boy that lived next door to me is gone. I just can’t seem to wrap my mind around the fact that I will never hear his quirky laugh again. It was his laugh, which sounded almost exactly like Goofy’s laugh, that allowed us to meet in the first place. I had overheard his laughter while he was playing next door. I thought Goofy was in the neighbor’s backyard. I was a little disappointed when I found out it was not Goofy, but the cuteness of his laugh keep me entertained for hours. Derrick always did make me laugh. That is what kept us close: laughter.

But it was not all laughter. I deeply respected Derrick. Coming out at age 15 is not an easy thing to do, especially for an African-American in a small Midwestern town. In recent years I asked him why he came out so early and he said that he just did not want to live a life that was built around a lie and that he wanted to be accepted and loved for the person he truly was. I loved that about him. Always honest. Always true to what he believed. Even when his family turned their back on him for being gay and he came to stay with us, he did not let it bother him much. He simply looked at it as it was their loss.

He had a strength that just shone so brightly that I just knew he was special. After high school we went to school at NYU. Derrick majored in East Asian Studies, which after graduation led to him moving all the way here to Tokyo. I would come and visit him and we would discuss old times back in Minnesota and at NYU. He would take me to his favorite places and we would eat at all of the neatest restaurants. We went to the hottest dance clubs and hung out with some fabulous people. We had fun.

But now it is all gone.

Now all I have left is one last Japanese cigarette left from the pack that Derrick bought hours before the accident that took him too soon. That, the memories of our 30 year friendship, and one long taxi ride.

Copyright © 2008-2009 Billie Guthrie