Red Tide Read Online Free PDF Page A

him she knew what was coming.
    “I’m gonna run a little errand.”
    She rolled her eyes and grabbed the door handle. Corso jerked his head back just in time to avoid losing his face to the slamming door. He walked up to the driver’s window, peeled off a hundred-dollar bill and waved it at the driver. The window opened just far enough to accommodate the cash. Corso said, “Take her anywhere she wants to go.”

5
    “H er new boyfriend plays the saxophone in one of those Vegas shows,” the cabdriver said. “I haven’t seen my kids since July.”
    “Must be tough,” was all Dougherty could think to say.
    “Specially around the holidays,” the guy said. “Talkin’ to them on the phone was almost worse than not hearing from them at all.” He took one hand off the wheel and waved it in the air. “They’re telling me all the stuff they’re getting for Christmas…like you know they’re all excited and all…and I’m like…” He shook his head sadly. Checked the rearview mirror. “You got kids?” he asked.
    She emitted a short, dry laugh. “Me? Kids? No…not me.”
    Her tone caught his attention. “Never too late,” he said. “Nice-lookin’ lady like you. I bet you got lotsa—” The look in her reflected eyes stopped the words in his throat and sent his attention scurrying back out over the hood.
    She checked the side window. The mist had cleared. Traffic was beginning to thin as they inched steeply uphill on Cherry Street.
    The cabdriver snapped the radio on. War doing “Lowrider.”
    “Where on the hill?” he asked above the rhythm.
    “Thirteenth Avenue East and Republican.”
    “Nice neighborhood,” he tried.
    She flicked her eyes down at the laminated plastic ID card hanging from the back of the seat. His name was Steveland Gerkey. He’d grown his wiry black hair out since the picture was taken. “Steveland, huh?” she muttered.
    “My mom named me after Stevie Wonder,” the driver said. “She named all of us that way. I’ve got a brother Marvin and a sister Diana…named after Marvin Gaye and Diana Ross. Mom was real big into Motown.”
    Dougherty let herself sink into the seat. Only a couple of cars at a time were getting through the intersections. She sat in silence for five minutes as they inched forward, and then suddenly she leaned closer. Put her hands on the back of the seat.
    “You happy with what you’re doing, Steveland?” she asked.
    His eyes fixed on the mirror again. Trying to tell if she was serious. “Stevie,” he said. “Everybody calls me Stevie.”
    “You happy with what you’re doing, Stevie?”
    “You mean like driving a cab?”
    “I mean like with your life.”
    He thought it over. “Depends on what you mean,” he said after a minute. “You know…it’s not like this was what I was planning when I was a little kid or anything.”
    “What’d you want to be when you were a little kid?” she asked.
    “A cowboy,” he said. “I really wanted to be a cowboy.”
    “What about later? After you grew up.”
    He twitched his shoulders but did not speak. His long-term aspirations were not a subject upon which he allowed himself to dwell. Not because they were in any way bad or bizarre, but because he had come to realize he didn’t have any. Nothing specific anyway. He’d never pictured himself as anything in particular. Just a situation where he made enough money doing something…anything…enough to have whatever he wanted. A nice new Dodge pickup. A boat or maybe a little house someplace. The kind of things people wanted.
    He looked in the mirror again. “What about you?”
    “A ballerina.”
    “I was gonna go to community college. They got a real good culinary arts program at South Seattle,” he volunteered. “But then…you know…I met Janie…we ended up getting married.” He seemed to shrink slightly in the seat. “Next thing you know we got two kids and there ain’t no going back to school after that.”
    “How long you been driving a