On Thursday afternoons, The Transporter is in Halifax to conduct a difficult and dangerous and insanely complex mission, involving two lovely children. Driving a battered old Kia and disguised as a mom, The Transporter first drives the two children to a martial arts class, where the younger boy has a Taek Won Do lesson from 5 to 6. Together with the girl (the older of the two), The Transporter sits on the outskirts of the class for about 10  minutes, the air punctuated with the rhythmic screams of the kids doing Taek Won Do. At about 5:12, The Transporter leaves the class to take the girl to her swim club, which starts at 5:30. Together they drive through the peak rush hour of Halifax, swerving and squirming through the traffic. The Transporter succeeds, dropping off the young girl outside Dalplex at 5:28 exactly. “Pick me up at 6:30” yells the young girl at The Transporter as she skips into Dalplex, as she does every single time The Transporter drops her off somewhere, for she can never feel sure if The Transporter will show up. The Transporter nods sternly at the young girl, and starts the drive back to the Taek Won Do class. Theoretically, there should be plenty of time to arrive before the class is over at 5:50, but the traffic is still milling around on the roads, and The Transporter starts to feel a black poisonous wave of anxiety flooding her belly as green digits on the car clock flicker higher and higher. For the young boy will cry if The Transporter is late in picking him up, as the young girl has successfully imparted her own paranoia regarding The Transporter’s ability to show up on time to him.

At 5:45, The Transporter is trying to park outside the Taek Won Do class. Despite the consummate driving skills, she never quite picked up the art of parking, and she rear-bumps gently the car behind her, thankfully empty. A flush of humiliation and annoyance floods her face as another car- a taxi-driver- honks at her parking skills.

5:48, she is safely sitting rinkside, listening to the Taek Won Do shrieks again. 5:51, she espies the young boy walking towards the parents’ seat, his face full of fear and confusion, about to burst in tears, for he cannot see The Transporter. Her heart pounds with rage at the universe for so filling her child with misery as she calls out to him and draws him to her arms.

Now the dilemma- drive straight to Dalplex to wait for the young girl? Or go home -located half way between the Taek Won Do and Dalplex, hang about for twenty minutes, and then drive to pick up the young girl? The Transporter ponders for a few seconds, but her bursting bladder makes up her mind- she needs to pee. So she drives home.

The young boy, having divested himself of his shoes and pants, is reluctant to put them on after 15 minutes to get back in the car. But the struggle is short-lived. 6:35, back on the street, the rush hour subsided. 6:45, outside Dalplex. 7:00 pm, back home, safely with the two children. The Transporter grimaces grimly, and sets to prepare supper.




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