$15.00. That was the price it would take to get from the mall back to SeaTac in the cab. We climb in the back and secure our seat belts. It is the first time I have been in a cab without my father driving and it is surreal, almost painful. My dad started driving cab after he “quit” his job as a computer technician and moved us to Seattle. I knew the truth that he had lost his job, but I never asked questions. I try not to think about it. We went to go see The Best Marigold Hotel, and it ended late so now I am tired. I close my eyes…..a familiar smell wafts my way. Sweaty baldhead and heavy bukhur. I open my eyes and see that it’s my father driving. Shocked, I don’t know what to say. I just look up at the rear view mirror and see his baggy eyes and his scruffy mustache. I am convinced that I am going insane, so I rub my eyes a couple of times to see if he will go away….Nope, still there. He was wearing his favorite white sweater with a grey horizontal stripe and the matching hat. I could see that he was carrying his old messenger bag and his little CD player that he would let me borrow. “Where do you want to go again”, he asks. “33rd Avenue South”, I reply, my voice shaky and hands trembling. Doesn’t he notice that it’s us? His daughters. Has he forgotten all of our fond memories? Teaching me how to ride a bike at Cottonwood Park? Or our late night trips to Sonic in my pajamas? How about when we saw the Mavericks game and you told me I would own them one day? Why now? Why choose now of all times to come back? I was flushed with anger and amazement at the same time. I loved him more than I loved anyone, but he did not even know our names. Didn’t he understand the pain I went through without him? No more “Daddy Made” breakfasts, or “Junk Food Fridays”. No one to check over my homework every night, or tell me everything was going to be okay. It was as if he was reincarnated as some other person, and did not remember us at all. I do not say anything in fear that he will leave again and never come back. As the cab climbed the hill out of Southcenter parkway, we could see the city lights. Surely, he would remember the time he convinced me they were stars. He told me that they were visiting from the heavens, and one day they would all be gone. Gone. Just like he was. Just like, he should be right now, but he is not. He is here. Right here, driving the car this very moment. The more he drove, the more the city lights were out of sight. He hadn’t even flinched. The whole ride home, from Southcenter, passed Safeway, and through our neighborhood, I stare him down. I tried to utter a sentence, or even a word that would give him some indication that I needed him back in our lives. I could imagine myself inching forward in an attempt to tap him on the shoulder. But I couldn’t. I was frozen. When we finally reach our house, he smiles and shakes my hand. “Nice meeting you”. I took a long time and stared at his face, remembering his features and the moment itself because once he left, I knew he would be gone forever. I begin to cry a little, but stop myself mid tear. SLAM. “Hey, wake up”, I hear my sisters voice, then I spring into sitting position. “That will be $15.00, says an unfamiliar voice. I look over and see another driver...Not dad. As we walk towards home, my sister tells me about how I fell asleep. How I was making noises and sobbing a little. I realize then, that it was all just a dream.