“Why am I not surprised to be hearing that from Mama?”
Maggie said.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to feel a lot better when I hear that from Dr. Henderson,” I said.

Just then I heard a car horn honking down on the street and, as I walked over to look out the old double hung windows that gave a clear view of the street, I saw our cab waiting below.

“It’s our cab, honey, let’s go!”

Getting Maggie down the stairs was a lot easier than getting her up the stairs, and I was relieved until I got us into the cab. Seeing that our cab driver was an ancient African American gentlemen who appeared to be 100 years old, I said with some urgency, “Sir, we need to get to the Children’s Hospital on Henry Clay Street. We’re in a hurry. Do you know the way?”

Slowly turning his head, our cab driver introduced himself by saying, “Oh, you must be Mr. Jim. Hello Mr. Jim, and this must be Maggie! I’m Charles and Mama Vermillion just called the office and asked me to take you over to the Children’s Hospital. Oh, you know Mr. Jim, I’ve been drivin’ a taxi in Nawlins for 40 years. Just let Charles take care of you. I know the way!”