The Fare To Mile Marker Nine

i pick him up at the same gas station on 12th every thursday, close to midnight. he pays cash, folded once, before i even start the meter on the app. twenty minutes out, past where the streetlights give up, because danny's hours got cut and we need the fifty more than i need to feel normal about earning it.

he doesn't talk. never has, not since the first ride. i used to fill the quiet with weather, traffic, anything. i don't bother anymore.

tonight i watched the odometer instead of the mirror, because that's easier. mile marker nine, same as always. he taps the window twice and i pull over.

there's no house out there. no driveway. just ditch grass and the shoulder disappearing into trees.

usually i'm already pulling away before the door shuts all the way. tonight i wasn't fast enough. i heard it close before i saw him clear the car.

the app says trip complete, rating pending, fifty dollars folded on the seat where he left it instead of handing it to me, same as always.

i need the fifty. i'll take the ride again next thursday. some nights not asking where he goes feels like the safest thing i do all week.