Driver

On the third day, Azriel’s very first passenger was a woman who immediately drew attention. She stood on the street corner with a posture as if she were posing for the cover of a fashion glossy. She wore a cream-colored coat made of obviously expensive fabric, shoes with thin stiletto heels that matched her purse perfectly, and makeup — neat, flawless, as if applied by a professional makeup artist. Her hair was styled in a smooth wave, not a single strand out of place. She smelled of perfume with notes of jasmine and sandalwood — the kind that costs as much as a taxi driver’s monthly salary. She glided gracefully into the back seat, straightened her skirt, elegantly crossed her ankles, and gave the address — an animal shelter on the outskirts of the city. Her voice was soft, insinuating, like someone used to being listened to and having her wishes fulfilled. Azriel smiled at the corners of his mouth and pulled away. The morning was fresh and sunny, and after yesterday’s difficult conversation, he wanted something uplifting. An animal shelter — that’s about kindness, right? About wanting to help? He allowed himself to relax. “Are you looking to get a dog?” he asked warmly, glancing at her in the mirror. The woman paused for a moment, as if the question caught her off guard. “What? Oh, yes,” she replied with a slight distraction. “A dog.” “Have you decided on a breed yet?” Azriel continued, turning onto a wide avenue. “Not yet,” she coquettishly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll decide on the spot. Whichever I like best. Or whichever performs best.” Azriel nodded. The thought seemed reasonable enough — not choosing from a picture, but looking into a living creature’s eyes. “Are you getting it for yourself?” he clarified. “For my daughter,” the woman’s voice grew warmer, but somehow mechanically, as if she were reciting a rehearsed line. “It’s her birthday today.” “That’s wonderful!” Azriel said sincerely. A birthday present — what could be better? Especially if it’s a living, loyal creature that will love the child for a lifetime. “A great gift.” “You know, she likes to experiment,” the woman added, looking thoughtfully out the window. Azriel slowed down a little. Something in her tone put him on edge. Too indifferent, too detached. As if she were talking about choosing wallpaper, not about a living, feeling being. “What kind of experiments?” he asked cautiously. “Oh, all sorts of things,” the woman shrugged, not noticing his tension. “Sometimes she’ll put her head underwater to see how long she can hold her breath. Or pierce her own ears — herself, with a needle, even though I told her it’s better to go to a salon.” She chuckled, as if it were some cute childish mischief. “I think she’s growing up to be an explorer.” Azriel gripped the steering wheel tighter. The car slowed down on its own; he hit the brakes and made a U-turn across a double solid line — sharply, with screeching tires. The woman swayed forward and grabbed the handle. “What’s wrong?” her voice wavered for the first time. “How many animals has she already had?” Azriel asked, not looking at her. “This will be the third,” the woman answered, confused. “Is something the matter?” “Nothing,” the taxi driver’s voice was icy. “Just a U-turn.” “Oh, I see,” she relaxed, straightening her skirt again. “And here I thought…” “So you want to give your daughter a dog,” Azriel interrupted, and there was no longer any warmth in his voice. “Knowing that she’ll torment it?” The woman was silent for a moment. Then she sighed — long and heavy, but not so much from shame as from weariness. “I do feel sorry for the animal,” she admitted at last, and something resembling sincerity did flash in her voice. “But I want to make Masha happy. It’s her birthday. She asked for a dog. What am I supposed to do? Say no?” Azriel didn’t answer. He just drove forward, staring at the road, which now seemed longer to him than before. He thought about those two animals that were already gone. About the third, which could still be saved. And about the girl named Masha, who for some reason wanted to torment rather than love. “We’re almost there,” he said dryly. Around the bend appeared a low building of gray brick. The sign reading “Loyalty Homeless Animal Shelter” hung a little crookedly, the paint on the letters chipped. Inside, behind the foggy windows, cages and some shadows could be made out. Somewhere, a dog barked — a lonely, anxious sound. The woman paid, opened the door, stepped out onto the sidewalk, and straightened her coat. She didn’t even glance at the driver. Then, with a confident, elegant stride, she headed toward the entrance. Her heels clicked on the asphalt — steadily, as if counting down someone’s last seconds of peace. Azriel watched her go. And suddenly he felt cold, even though it was warm inside the car.