The Last Ride: A Taxi Driver’s Sudden Journey That Changed His Life
It was past midnight, his wife, Sarah, and their kids were already asleep, probably wondering why he wasn’t home yet. He sighed, switching off his taxi’s availability.
Just as he was about to start the engine, one last ride request popped up on his screen. He reached to decline because he was too tired for another trip. However something made him pause.
The pickup was only ten minutes away, nestled in an old neighborhood.
A House Frozen in Time
The address led him to an aging Victorian home, its once-white paint now peeling, ivy creeping up its sides like time itself was reclaiming it.
“Just go home, Marcus,” he told himself.
A sickly voice called from inside, “Just a minute!”
There was a sound of something being dragged across the floor, slow and deliberate.
She dressed in a floral-print dress with a pale blue pillbox hat. Behind her, the house was a ghost of its former self—furniture draped in white sheets, empty picture hooks on the walls, and a single box overflowing with old photographs.
“Would you carry my bag to the car?” she asked.
Marcus picked it up, surprised by its lightness. “Of course. Happy to help.”
She concerned, “Watch that third step. Frank always meant to fix it, but you know how husbands are.”
Who was Frank? And why did she need a taxi at this hour?
A Drive Through the Past
Once seated, she gave him an address, then hesitated. “Would you mind taking the long way? Through downtown?”
“It’s not the shortest way.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said softly. “I’m on my way to hospice.”
“I don’t have any family left,” she admitted.
“The doctor says I don’t have long.”
“Which route would you like to take?”
They drove through the sleeping city, winding past landmarks that held pieces of her life for the next two hours.
The final location was the tiny house she and Frank had saved for seven years to buy, and an old warehouse that made her eyes light up.
“This used to be a ballroom,” she whispered.
“It’s where I met my husband. He stepped on my dress during our first dance. I thought he was a clumsy fool.”
“Thank you for this,” she murmured. “I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Marcus.”
She smiled. “My name is Margaret. Thank you, Marcus. But I’m tired now. Let’s go to the hospice.”
A Final Goodbye… And A Suprise Gift
As dawn stretched across the sky, Marcus pulled up to the nursing home. Two orderlies came out with a wheelchair. When Margaret tried to pay, he shook his head.
“But you have to make a living,” she insisted.
“There are other passengers,” he said.
“You gave an old woman a little joy tonight. Thank you, Marcus.”, she said.
A month later, Marcus received a call from dispatch.
When he arrived, a man in an expensive suit was waiting. “Marcus? I’m Margaret’s attorney. She requested to see you before she passes.”
“I knew you’d come,” she said weakly. “I don’t have much time, so listen carefully.”
$100,000.
“Margaret, I can’t accept this,” he stammered.
“Yes, you can,” she insisted.
“For twenty years, my family forgot I existed. No calls. No visits. But you—you treated me like a person. You saw me.”
Marcus clenched his jaw, but said nothing. A week later, court papers arrived at his door.
A Legal Conflict… and Margaret’s Final Victory
The family’s expensive lawyers accused Marcus of control and inheritance fraud. They sat smugly in court, convinced they would win.
But Margaret had predicted everything.
“The deceased recorded a statement to be played now,” the judge announced.
“To my so-called family,” she began. “I waited for you. I hoped to see you one last time. But for twenty years, you ignored me. No birthdays. No holidays. You don’t get to profit from neglect.”
“I was of sound mind when I changed my will. Every doctor confirmed it. Every paper is signed. And if you dare claim I was manipulated, ask yourselves why a stranger treated me with more kindness in one night than you did in twenty years.”
Finally, Margaret had won.
