Christmas With Two Gloves

Christmas with Two Gloves

         The cab door snapped open. Allan glanced at the figure that jostled itself into the taxi and crept up his eyebrows at it. Something unpleasant flickered in him as he watched the man shut the door with little grace.

         “Excuse me?” Allan questioned the cab driver blankly. This was supposed to be his ride. The man who now sat on the other side of the taxi seat lounged in the back and met the driver’s eyes. “Maple Street,” was all he said.

         “Excuse me?” Allan stated again, “This is my ride. Can’t he get another taxi?”

         The driver ignored him. The man smirked. The car started up and drove on the snowy streets.

         “Figures. Probably too much business on Christmas,” Allan muttered to himself. He leaned back, spine rigid and guarded, as he watched the other passenger flicker a stare at the window. The man’s heavy leather coat shifted with him smoothly. Allan settled himself in frustrated annoyance, wondering why he picked to work on such a crowded day. But he needed the pay. Things were getting expensive, and the city wasn’t called New York for two words on a crowded American map.

         His eyes fluttered open when he heard the slight swish-swish of the taxi window being pulled down. An instant cold draft ran in.

         “Could you please close the window?” Allan tried to make his flaring temper calm.

         The man didn’t even glance back. The cold air continued to rush in. Allan felt his cheeks turn rosy from the icy draft.

         “Close the window,” he repeated.

         “I like it open,” the man said. He sounded young, maybe a college graduate.

         Allan felt the snowflakes drift into his tangled hair. “I don’t care how you like it. I’m cold.”

         “I don’t care if you’re cold.”

         That unpleasant temper flared up again. “It’s winter. I might get sick.” Allan pressed down the comment that he had just recovered from the flu a week ago.

         The man turned to stare at Allan. His glance was brief in a calm face. “Not with those clothes on.” Allan wore two sweaters and a coat.

         The flared feeling irked again. “Close the window.”

         The man rolled it down further, just as more snow piled in. Allan wondered why the driver didn’t care. “I’ll do it myself if I have to,” he warned.

         “Go ahead.”

         Allan leaned across the man and rolled up the window. A few snowflakes snapped against his rosy face. The man’s leather coat swished across Allan’s cold hands as the man shifted. Allan leaned back to his spot and glared at the taxi’s general atmosphere.

         “Why don’t you wear any gloves?” the man asked. Curiosity sparked.
Allan didn’t answer.

         “You don’t have any, do you?” he prompted.

         Allan dodged the questions, “What’s your business on Maple Street?”

         “I applied for a job in a firm,” he replied, going along with the change of subject. “They wanted an interview.”

         “On Christmas Day?” Allan questioned, surprised.

         The young man smiled slightly, “It was the only day they could interview me. They’re pretty busy.”

         Silence drew for a moment.

         “I’m working in one of the stores on the corner,” Allan suddenly said. “They needed extra people for today. And they pay more.”

         “It’s Christmas,” the man said simply. “They pay more on any holiday. Especially when people do last minute shopping.”

         Allan nodded.

         The driver stopped at the stores on the corner, driving the taxi into the slush as he braked. He named his price for the ride and Allan dug through his worn wallet.
Just as he undid his seatbelt and opened the cab door, something brushed against his hand. The man was leaning towards him and shifting one of his gloves in Allan’s direction. “Borrow it for today.”

         Allan’s gaze was blank. “It’s only one glove.”

         “It’s only one day.”

         Allan pulled it across his cold fingers. It was warm and loose on him. He closed the taxi door and walked through the slush before he turned and watched the cab drive away.

         From this distance, Maple Street looked only a block away.