When Kindness is Rebellion
In a world that expects the worst, offering our best is radically subversive.
“I haven’t told anyone this yet — not even my business partner,” said Jack.
Two pairs of bluebell eyes stared at me gravely — Jack’s, and his infant son’s. Our Jeep sat in Cape Town traffic at the edge of the City Bowl.
Well, their Jeep, to be precise, since I was just the friendly neighborhood hitchhiker.
Jack’s secret? I’m not going to tell, of course.
Traffic began to flow, and the lush greenery of Constantia Nek blurred outside our windows, then transitioned to cityscape as we entered Cape Town proper.
Jack was hardly the first stranger to tell me his life story — nor would he be the last.
When a hitchhiker enters a car, we enter into a tacit agreement with our driver. We are storytellers, listeners, and, most of all, amiable company. We may not offer gas money, but the goods we trade in — words — are far more valuable.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” Jack mused as we neared my destination (Jack would continue on to the airport to pick up his wife). “It’s like you’re my unofficial shrink.”
We’re that, too.
