Jake is a taxi driver. He lives in London and work every day. As a taxi driver he gets to know a lot of people, different people. Everybody is special in their own way.
One day I caught up a lady. She had classy clothes, high heels, and a lot of bags. She looked known to me. She said she was going to the airport. I got paid and not for the price I gave her but the double. I was happy because as a taxi driver you don’t get a lot of money. I will remember her.
It was Saturday. And the clock was twelve, midnight. In this time I parked by the night clubs so could drive the people home and get some money. A man knocked on my door. And I nodded, to tell him that he should open the door.
I asked him where he would go. He just said “drive forward”. I listened at him and started the car. I drove and drove. He didn’t say a word. He was just singing. It was like I knew this guy. He had brown hair, and green eyes. I think he was high. He said to me that the life was hard, and not as easy as we thought, I nodded because I agree. It isn’t easy. I turned on the radio but it didn’t work.
- Don’t try, said the guy.
- While I am in the car nothing works. Just look at the window.
I looked at the window and I didn’t see a thing, just black. I was scared. I opened the window and I couldn’t hear a thing, or see anybody. I was alone with this strange guy.
- What’s your name? I asked the guy.
- What do you think? He answered.
- My name is Jake, he said.
I looked at him. When I think about it, he looks like me. The same hair color and the eyes are identic. And the name it was the same. I started shaking. How? He looks like me, he sings like me and we have the same name. This is weird. Awkward. Scary.
- I’m from the future, he said.
Silence and only silence.
- I’m you but older, he said and looked out the window. But it wasn’t a thing to see.
Silence and only silence. I didn’t know what to say. I just sat there and thought. Thought of what? That couldn’t be me. No way.
- I’m here to tell you something; he said and broke the silence.
- Come with me.
He walked out the car and took me with him. I was scared and confused; I wasn’t able to say words. He grabs my hand and started walking down the streets. It feels that this street doesn’t have end.
He stopped walking. He was staring at the London orphanage. He opened the door and walked in. It was babies who were crying and kids who played. An adult yelled.
- Jake, where are you? Said the lady.
I saw a little boy run. He was cute; he had brown hair, green eyes and a blue cap on his head. My tears started run down my cheek. I don’t know but I was crying.
- This is the past, said the older Jake.
- And that is you, he pointed at the boy.
I started thinking where my parent’s was. Before my dad die he wanted to tell me something, but he never get.
- You are adopted, said Jake, the old one, and dried his tears.
I screamed. Why? Where are my parent’s? My real parent’s? Nobody in the orphanage heard that I screamed probably because we weren’t there, in a way.
- Where are my biologic parent’s ? said I .
- I’m going to tell it to you soon but not now, said Jake the old and walked out the door.
We sat on a bench not far from the orphanage. He started tell:
When you were born, your daddy had cancer. Two days after you were born your dad passed away. Your mom couldn´t handle you alone so she gave you to the orphanage. And I´m here to help you to find your mother. She was close to you all the time. She knows you. She know how you look. She gave you the name Jake after your father. And do you know who your mother is ?
- No, said I.
- I think you do, said Jake the old.
- It´s the lady you drove to the airport from a couple of days ago.
Jake the old told me to drive to the Hyde Park in London. We started the car and drove away.
We sat on a bench. I saw a lady that went against us. I started crying again. She started running. I started running. We took firm in each other's arms as if we would never drop, I would never drop. I looked behind my. Jake the old wasn´t there. He had disappear.
Jake and his mother went to the cemetery to see his fathers grave. There; Jake Thomson, 1955 – 1987, Rest In Piece. We started crying, and sat us by the grave.
Jake moved into his mothers house. He got to go on an university but he never finished it. He got a new job. He is now head of all taxi drivers in London.