By Dunja Ilic.
The summer was already over when I closed my plastic-smelling suitcase and checked if the lights were turned off one last time. It was 3.55 in the morning. I wasn’t quite headed to the airport though. There was a guy waiting for me a few streets away, probably dozing off between sips of energy drink. Having locked the door, suitcase in hand and backpack on the shoulder, I picked up the garbage and descended the six flights of stairs the building had. Shivering from the combination of cold weather and lack of sleep, I threw the garbage into the empty dumpster and pulled the suitcase handle out.
It was unpleasant having to walk through dark passages reeking of human and dog urine, but what I worried about was the credibility of the guy I was going to meet. He was an experienced driver of about sixty who preferred an early start, his carpooling profile said. Mine said I was an experienced passenger who preferred jazz but could stand any music, if it was what helped. I wrote this at 19, a few years ago when I created the profile.
I reached the street where he was supposed to be waiting. One of the parked cars blinked a couple of times and the horn sounded. A hand thrown out the window was energetically signalling that I stay where I was. He drove over and got out of the car. He was indeed a man in his sixties who gave the impression of being an experienced driver. We shook hands. While he was putting my suitcase in the trunk, I made myself comfortable on the back seat.
He got in and started the engine. We made our way through narrow streets and out of the city expediently. There weren’t many cars on the road. It was that time of day when people are already sleeping, or they haven’t woken up yet. It was still very dark – night, practically – and in some moments patches of sky with stars on them flashed between skyscrapers. I enjoyed the speedy change of landscape and thought: it’s going well. This was actually my first single carpooling trip.
Soon we got to the highway. I glanced at the speedometer. We were going significantly over the limit. I leaned into the seat and indulged in the safe illegality of the fast ride, the stars shining all around now. If we keep going like this, we’re gonna to be there before noon, I thought. Intending to send a message to Maria, the friend who was expecting me, I took my phone. It was still very early. She’d likely be sleeping. Plenty of time to let her know. Besides, he might want to make it up with a break.
I turned to the window again, my eyes vaguely discerning occasional shapes of trees and bushes. There was still almost nothing but the flatland around us. I remembered how my dad had said we were crazy thinking he was going to drive at night, a few years back when we were all going on holiday to this very same bay, Maria and I on the back seat. They’ve built a bypass, he told me yesterday, when I called to let him know I was leaving. I looked at the man who was driving me. His gaze was fixed on the road, a second can of energy drink between seats.
– What a beautiful night, don’t you think? – I said, glancing through the window again.
Not taking his eyes off the road, he replied:
– Well, it’s practically day already.
I lingered a bit, not knowing whether to say something further. Then I took my headphones from the backpack. I didn’t really feel like listening to music, so I just played the first song on the list. I was expecting to have to turn the volume up, like always when I was travelling, but I realized, discreetly turning my head a bit more to the right and taking one headphone off, that the car music was barely audible. It must have been like that the whole time. It was some kind of gentle jazz, the one you can hear on non-stop live music YouTube channels that I used to listen to when I was studying. I put the headphone back on and laid my head against the window.
My thoughts were drifting. I was a bit worried I forgot to pack the things Maria had left in the apartment. She moved out in a hurry. She got a job at an expensive holiday resort, but she had to get there quickly if she was planning to accept it as the season was about to begin. We had been living together for three years. To be fair, she asked me what to do, if she should just go like that, what about me, what about the apartment. I told her to go. Just like that. That I’d sort everything out, one way or another.
The landlord was a nice man. He owned about five buildings in the capital and could afford to lose one half of the rent for one of the apartments. A few days later, when he came to pick up the money and the bills, I invited him to stay for coffee. Maria was out. I told him that she had gotten a job offer and that she had to accept it as she was hard pressed for cash. He suggested himself I try and find a new girl and in the meantime he’d cut the rent for me. I told him I really appreciated it. And really, he didn’t need to do it, with the lack of affordable housing and all.
He stayed about half an hour more. We talked about the job. I told him Maria’d be communicating with clients any time they might need assistance, six days a week. Accommodation and a hot meal were provided for, and she was supposed to pay for the transportation to the resort herself. After some more small talk, his phone rang and he said he had to go. As I was about to close the door after him, he turned around and told me with a smile not to hesitate to get in touch in case I needed something else. I thanked him again. Closing the door, I noticed the garbage was still on the threshold. Maria didn’t take it when she was going out.
I must have fallen asleep. I was roused by the morning sun glaring on me through the side window, thirsty and almost able to smell my own breath. My heart was pounding. I took the headphones off and drank some water from the bottle I had in my backpack. The driver had his right hand over his left. We were pulling into a gas station. Distressed after dreams which must have been nightmares, I was beginning to panic, imagining him just getting out without saying anything, me rushing inside hoping the car would still be there when I got back. But he finally spoke. First he looked at me in the rear-view mirror. I caught his glance and smiled apologetically. He asked if it was okay if we made a break here. I said of course it was. We both got out of the car and crossed the couple of meters to the entrance in silence. I quickly found the toilets and left him in the shop, looking at the offers above the counter.
When I got out again, I glanced around and found him sitting at a table outside, smoking. There were two paper cups in front of him, one of them much taller. He saw me and indicated that I should join him with a movement of his head. I went out and sat at the opposite side of the table. He pushed the tall cup over to me.
– Thanks.
– Going on holiday a bit late this year, are we? – he said.
I explained it was because my friend was going to put me up and she wouldn’t have been able to do that at the height of the season.
– It’s still warm down there. And not so many tourists either. Don’t know about you young people, but that’s how I prefer it.
– Oh, well, I prefer it too. But I’m gonna be alone most of the time anyway ‘cause she’ll still have to work.
I sipped a little bit of the coffee. It was a latte, crammed with sugar. I was kind of touched that he chose this for me, although I actually drank black coffee.
– Well, I’m sure she’ll spare some time to spend with you. Not good to be always alone. Nice to have someone to talk to.
– Yeah.
We drank in silence. He was smoking all the while. Lighting a new cigarette at some point, he offered me to join him, but I declined.
– It’s good you don’t smoke – he said.
– I did try it a couple of times but really I can’t make myself enjoy it.
– That’s good. Don’t force yourself. Anything.
He was silent again for a minute or two. Then he added:
– It’s ugly when a woman smokes. The stench of cheap coffee and cigarettes…
He shook his head slowly. Mine was beginning to hurt from the smoke and the sugar and the sun which was now shining directly on us. Luckily, he soon got up and said he was going to go refresh himself. He unlocked the car for me. Just as I turned my back to him, I heard:
– And you sit in front now.
For a moment I remained standing there. Then I gathered myself and proceeded to the car. This was why he seemed angry the whole time. I opened the back door, took my phone and searched hurriedly through my things. Water, some food, a book, headphones. I lingered with my hand in the air and then took the bottle. I slammed the back door and got on the front seat. This guy really wasn’t my driver. I was paying, but the price was symbolic.
He arrived a couple of minutes later carrying a plastic bag. He put it between the seats and started the engine. Once we were back on the highway, he said he had bought water and juice for us.
– Oh, well thanks, I already have my water – I said, pointing to the reusable bottle in my lap. I was glad we were getting on now, but it was clear I didn’t need it.
– You’re not gonna drink that, are you? It must have boiled by now!
I felt the bottle with my hand. He was right. I never really drank cold water though. Still, I took one of the bottles from the bag. It was wet with perspiration.
– The juice is for you too. Hope you like it.
– Thanks.
I took another bottle and hesitated, wondering whether I should open one of them. Then his phone rang. He answered it, as I knew he would. I put the bottles between my feet and took my own phone to send the message to Maria, since we’d definitely be there early.
While I was typing, I couldn’t help but overhear his conversation. He was saying how happy he was to be heading to the seaside at last. He was tired of the city, of his job. The interlocutor was a woman. Her voice was as loud as if she were in the car with us. He asked her what she’d been up to. She said she was planning to paint the walls next week and that she was hoping he’d come and help out. He told her he was planning to be away for a few weeks at least, and why doesn’t she call someone to do it properly. She said that he could do it perfectly and that she wouldn’t mind waiting for him a bit. He paused for a few seconds and then asked: what about that son of ours? Oh, you know what he’s like, she replied. After another short pause, he told her he’d talk to her when he got back and that he had to hang up since he was driving.
The mountains around us were increasing in size. The road was getting narrower by the minute. A huge lake lay beneath, its surface reflecting the surrounding pine trees. It was beautiful.
– Haven’t they built a bypass? – I asked, suddenly realizing.
– Yes, but I’ve been using this road since before you were born. Don’t worry.
He was very confident and so far it didn’t look like he had a reason not to be. He only drove a little too fast, but I didn’t mind that much. I was actually more concerned because my dad was expecting us to use the bypass.
– So, what do you do when you’re not going on holiday? – he asked distractedly.
– I’m a student – I replied.
– And what do you study?
– Medicine.
He giggled as if it were the sweetest funniest thing to say. Unsure how to react, I added:
– And it’s gonna take some time to finish!
– Definitely!
The conversation ended there. I checked my phone. Maria replied that my coming early wouldn’t be a problem since the manager knew I was arriving today. I typed in “great”, then forced myself to add an emoji so she wouldn’t think my mood had something to do with her. Then I put the phone between my legs. The bends were getting sharper and we were getting closer and closer to the cars going in the other direction.
After some time, his phone rang again. It was another female voice. She asked him how he was and if he was tired, and he told her he’d had a couple of energy drinks and a cup of coffee during the break. She said she’d had the neighbour over, that’s why she didn’t call earlier. Then she asked: what’s that music you’re listening too? He said it was just something he had in the car. It was pretty fantastical she could hear it. He must have thought the same because he turned his phone volume down. This of course only meant I could no longer hear her clearly. To something she said, he replied: yeah, we had a little coffee break earlier. Then he added: yeah, for about 20 minutes. She was beginning to speak faster now but he interrupted her and said: look, darling, let me drive, okay? It’s the old road. Please. Then he told her he loved her and hung up.
The rest of the trip we spent in silence. An evergreen radio station was turned on. He focused on the road and I scrolled through my homepage a bit. Then I closed my eyes and fell asleep. When I opened them again, there was the sea on our left. We were in the bay.
– I was just about to wake you up. Do you know the address?
I gave him the name of the resort and he said we’d be there in 10. I turned to the back seat to look at the state of my things and found them scattered all over. He told me not to worry, he’d park and then I’d get them.
Soon we were there. He pulled up in front of the entrance. I got out and opened the back door. I packed everything quickly. Then I got the money from my wallet and handed it to him. He took it without saying anything. With the backpack on my shoulder, I closed the door, opened the trunk and pulled my suitcase out. I caught his glance in the mirror.
– Thank you – I said and smiled.
– Have a nice time – he said, returning the smile.
I closed the trunk and he drove away.
When I turned around, Maria was running towards me. We hugged. Over her shoulder, I could see the manager looking at us from the reception. I recognized him from his profile, which Maria sent to me earlier.
– You’re finally here! How was the ride?
– Fast but okay. You sure it’s fine I’m early?
– I told you, don’t worry! The manager freed me for the afternoon ‘cause you’re coming. He said I can turn off my phone and lock it in a drawer till tomorrow morning! I just need to finish one little thing and then we can go, okay?
She told me I could wait at the reception where the air conditioning was on, but I said I’d go down to the water.
The beach was almost empty. I took my trainers off and stepped into the sea. I felt a chill going up all the way through my body. I was worm after the ride and tired. Still, I made myself walk in the shallows till my feet got used to the cold, the fine dust rising among the pebbles with my every step. This image calmed me.
*
That evening, while I was waiting for Maria to get ready to go out, I received a notification from the carpooling app asking me to rate the driver. I opened it. Going over the trip in my head, I supposed it would be relevant for potential passengers to know that he drives very fast and talks on the phone meanwhile. But then, we got here safe and ahead of schedule. I thought about it for a couple of seconds more. Then I typed in: “Drives fast but safely. Everything went well.” And now I also needed to rate him. Looking at the empty stars waiting to be filled, my finger instinctively headed for the fourth. But I couldn’t do it. Everything was fine after all.
Annoyed with the fact that I was agonizing over this, I quickly deleted the “everything went well” part of the text, coloured the five stars in yellow and pressed the submit button. Before I had the chance to put my phone away, the app notified me I could now see how I had been rated by the driver.
I got four stars.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dunja Ilic was born in Kikinda, Serbia in 1995. She edits books for a Serbian press and writes book reviews for various regional online magazines. She graduated in literature and literary theory from the University of Belgrade and is currently doing her MA in critical and cultural theory at Charles University in Prague. She’s recently started writing fiction in English, which is not her native language.
