4. Ghost Riders

[rossi]

Condensation was building up on the inside of the windows of the Tim Horton's. Outside the night was very clear, very cold, a thin film of frost turning the roads white and outlining every edge and crack. Ranjit sipped his coffee, staring out the window at his parked cab and waiting for his feet to thaw. Nights like this, he wondered why he'd left India. You didn't get minus 25 degrees Celsius in India.

A waft of cold air from the door opening turned his attention to the younger man coming in. Ravi Singh was a newcomer to the cab business, a newcomer to the country, and Ranjit had taken a kind of avuncular interest in him, showing him the ropes, helping with the culture shock. He waited while Ravi got himself coffee and a donut, but the friendly greeting on his lips died as he saw the younger man's pale face and shaking hands.

"Ravi, you're as white as a sheet! Did something happen?" he asked in Hindi as Ravi sat down. The other taxi driver was shivering so much he had to hold onto his coffee with both hands to bring it to his mouth.

"Ah, Ranjit, I don't think you'd believe me if I told you," Ravi managed at last with a shake of his head and a shaky laugh. "I am not sure I believe it myself."

Ranjit raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Try me, Ravi. I have seen many strange things in twenty years of driving a taxi."

Ravi sipped at his coffee again, making a face. "Pheh, this stuff never improves," he complained. "At least it is hot." He sipped again and then set the cup down. "I was driving down Eglinton on my way downtown, when suddenly, there's a pack of cyclists in my way. I honked at them to move over and let me pass, but they didn't pay attention. And that's when I noticed."

Ranjit had listened impassively, and then spoke quietly. "You noticed that you could see through them, didn't you?"

The younger man blinked at Ranjit and then nodded, glancing around almost furtively. "You know, then? It happened to you?"

"Yes, it happened to me. On nights like this, when there is a full moon, the ghost bikers ride." Ranjit was utterly serious as he spoke. "You are not the only taxi driver to have seen them. Many of us have."

"But who... what are they?"

"You have seen the ghost bicycles, yes? Those bicycles painted white and left as a memorial to a killed cyclist?" Ravi nodded after a moment's consideration. "Well, a ghost bike, it needs a rider, doesn't it?"

"So you're saying, what I saw..."

"Was the spirits of those cyclists." Ranjit shrugged a little and sipped at his own coffee.

"But..." Ravi shook his head, unbelieving. "There has to be a rational explanation. I don't believe in ghosts."

"You don't have to believe. But you saw what you saw." Ranjit held up his hand to stifle further protests. "Do not waste your time questioning, Ravi. Accept, and move on."

Ravi settled into reluctant silence, picking at his donut, and eventually talk turned to other things: the night's fares, their families back in India, the escapades of Ranjit's children...

And outside, in the clear cold night, there was the faintest sound of whirring wheels and pedals and the ringing of a bicycle bell as the ghostly pelaton continued on its way.


Based on this link.