On a dark and gloomy December morning in New York City, the moon shone brightly on the illuminant yellow of Jimmy Gonazales’ taxi cab. As he sat in front of the surprisingly silent Broadway theatre, a man in a pink long coat approached Jimmy’s cab at approximately 2:37 A.M... As he became closer to the cab, Jimmy could see a large scar about the size of a fist on his face. Jimmy, being in the taxi business for about eighteen years of his forty-six years of life, had seen multiple deranged people in the years, but the man coming closer and closer to his cab had the oddest appearance of anyone he has ever seen. Besides the large coat and scar, the man appeared to have some sort of weapon in the front of his large pocket filled with cigars and cold hard cash. This didn’t frighten Jimmy but created a very weird feeling in his empty stomach. As the man was greeted with a disturbed grin from Jimmy through the protection of the glass window, the man whipped out five hundred dollars and made it present to the scared man behind the glass shield.
Once Jimmy’s’ eyes spotted the cash, his eyes lit up with excitement and he could not believe this miraculous sight. His mouth dropped down as though Jimmy was given a chest full of gold that would change his life forever. He thought of all the exciting moments he could have with fifty thousand dollars of cold, hard cash. He pictured himself in the Bahamas in the seventy-eight degree weather he had grown up with in the Dominican Republic. As he imagined of that fantastic dream, the man knocked on the door of the cab and demanded Jimmy to roll down his window. About five minutes later, Jimmy became conscious once again and rolled the shield down.


“So do yuh need a ride somewhere dude? I’m willin to take yuh as far as you need. Whateva you want dog,” stated Jimmy with the largest smile on his face since his wedding in Mahi.

“No…I’m just standin on the corner wit five hundred bucks out in the open on this street corner you idiot. Alright, so can I get in?” the man in the long coat questioned furiously as though his fluffy pet had just peed in his Lamborghini.

Ummm…yea I guess so dude,” Jimmy said in as innocent of a voice as you possibly can use. “So what’s yo name man?

“Just drive,” he promptly stated in a loud and serious tone that would petrify anyone.

As they became in close proximately of multiple shut down businesses in Central New York, the man commanded Jimmy to pull over in an alley way.

In the process of proceeding into the alley, the man pulled out his .44 Magnum and stuck it to Jimmy’s seven and five-eighths inch head and told him to give him all that Jimmy had received all day from driving the claustrophobic taxi.

“Heck no! I never will!” Jimmy shouted with an extremely scared looking look on his face. “I’ve worked too hard to just hand all my hard earned money to a scum bag like you!”

“So be it…” the man said with a smirk on his face.

As Jimmy prayed that he would live to see another day, the man pulled the trigger that would change his life. Unconscious in the driver’s seat, Jimmy had been killed. As the man grabbed all Jimmy’s cash he’d earned, he said, “Oh… and my name is Lebron, just in case you still want to know.”



Twenty selfish years later, Lebron was now living in a beautiful condo on the coast of the beautiful Bahamas. One day when off on the beach, Lebron was approached by five police officers all labeled with U.S. badges.
“Lebron Ortiz?” the five officers asked him hoping this was the right Lebron Ortiz after searching for nineteen years.
Ummm… yes officer? Do you need something?” Lebron said acting as though he had never done anything miserable in his life.
“We need to take you with us back to the states,” one of the officers said.
Lebron dropped his head and said, “Ok? But can someone tell me what’s going on?”
The five officers didn’t reply and dragged him away from the beach chair he sat in.

“Where were you on the night of December 19, 1988 at approximately 2:37 A.M..?” the officer asked Lebron in a quiet and soothing voice.
“I think I was in New York. I think?”Lebron questioned himself about that but tried to tell the truth as much as possible. “I think I was in a taxi cab.”
“Do you remember what the driver looked like by chance?” the officer hoped for a clear description but instead received a brief shrug of the shoulders from Lebron. “Alright. Well we have your DNA on a dollar bill found in at the site of the murder.”
What?!?” yelled Lebron across the table from the calm officer.
“Yes sir. Can you also explain how we found your DNA on a .44 Magnum that was found in the back seat of the car?”
“Ok. I admit. I was the one who shot Jimmy but you don’t know the whole story!” shouted Lebron now forced to tell the truth since any lie could be used against him in the court of law. “Ok. One morning on May 15, 1974, I was working with Jimmy in a small diner in the middle of an island in the Bahamas. He and I had been terrific friends until we ended college when he proposed to the one I had loved all my life and he even knew that,” he stated with a depressed look on his reddened face as he peered around the interrogation room. “She had beautiful blonde hair and light blue eyes. She was the prettiest girl at the school and I had always talked about her and how I was going to marry her one day,” he said as a tear began to drip down the side of his cheek. “Then on the day of his promotion party, Jimmy called for a toast and stated, ‘Thank you all for coming but I’d like Annabelle to come up front,’ She of course did but with a very excited look and he continued, “I have loved you all my life Annabelle and you are the girl of my dreams. Will you marry me?” She said yes and I never did talk to Jimmy again,” Lebron pronounced as he dropped his head on the table. “ He always called me asking if I was alright but I never answered the phone since I was still so furious at him. So one day, on the night of December 18, 1988, I was ready to end this misery I had suffered for fourteen years,” Lebron now was as scared as he may be but knew this would end the dreaded misery he has suffered all these years. “So I asked around if anyone still had contact with Jimmy and knew where he worked. I got the address of where he worked and where he currently was and followed him until he didn’t have any other passengers waiting for a ride. As I approached his cab, I know he remembered who I was due to the scar embedded on my face,” he shouted like he was in the middle of a dark room in search of help. “When we were eighteen, he had cut me on the cheek after a fight over our budget for college since we were like brothers. And I even noticed when he looked at me that morning of December 19, 1988, that he was scared to look at me due to all he’s put me through,” Lebron declared with the most bitterly sweet tone as he put his hands on the table and sat there silent for two minutes. He looked at one officer and then the other and began to speak once again, “Once we reached the alley way that I demanded to be let off at, he whispered to me and said ‘ I’m sorry about all I have done through the years. Whatever you’re here to do to me, I totally deserve it. I’ve been a terrible friend over the years and I hope you forgive me for that’ and after he said all that I felt so bad. I knew I couldn’t just forgive him but I didn’t know what to do. I put my hand on the gun and he then said, “Do it,” and I just found that I had to pull the trigger to relieve myself from the torture,” he started crying. The officer had to go get a tissue for Lebron. He grasped the tissue from the warm hearted officer as though he could not trust the officer with it. “I did pull the trigger but I have felt even worse after that. Put me in prison. I deserve it,” affirmed Lebron with his hands on the table ready for the two officers to put him away in prison for a long time.
The officer, with a shocked expression on his face and even a small tear in the corner of his eye said, “Well Lebron, you seem like a good guy and I wouldn’t put you in jail if it was my decision, but you wrongly committed a crime so I must lock you away.” The officer grabbed his hand cuffs, locked them on Lebron’s arms and said, “whatever you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”


“Jimmy? Did that all realley happen?” questioned Jimmy’s grandson.
“Of course not son. I wouldn’t be here with you if it really did happen. It’s all just a story,” said Jimmy with a big, bright smile on his old, eighty-three year old face.
His grandson, with a large and happy smirk on his face while hugging his grandpa said, “Well that’s good because that would be one crazy taxi!”