The Meth Dealer

The weather was getting nicer every day as Spring blossomed all over the Willamette Valley. While it still rained nearly every day, it only did so for short periods during the night or early morning, and then cleared up, with temperatures rising to the mid 60’s. Trevor had picked off driver #19, who always let someone take his shift if they wanted to drive for him. Driver #52 was only scheduled to drive 3 days a week, because he had other responsibilities to fulfill the other days. But every so often he got his other work caught up and liked to drive a few extra shifts, to see what he may experience.

In the early evening he drove everyone from elderly women to grocery stores, to bartenders and strippers to work. For a weekday night it was fairly steady, even during the dinner hour, but Trevor was enjoying his work doing memory scans of all his fares. Sometimes it was interesting to see how people functioned, and all the secrets that they tried to hide. Sometimes there were regulars who took a cab every day, and their memory scans would become layered, with each new encounter.

One of them was Corky, the manager and chief bartender at Fred’s Neighborhood Bar. Corky was a regular, who like many bartenders, had a DUI (Driving Under the Influence), for a variety of reasons. In this case it was because of driving over 100 MPH and rolling his Corvette, 6 times, while miraculously walking away without a scratch. Corky said that he didn’t mind not having a license for a couple of years, in return for his life, and the most exciting episode of his 36 years.

Tonight #52 picked him up at his house in North Salem, around 9:00 PM, with a load of boxes, that he took to the bar. He took 3 trips to get everything into the cab, but Trevor didn’t run the meter, since he was a regular, and always tipped well. On the way to Fred’s, there was no conversation but #52 saw everything in his mind scan. Corky was high on methamphetamines, that he smoked just before entering the cab.

One time he told Trevor that he wouldn’t allow drug activity to go on in his bar and would throw out anyone who was trying to peddle drugs. He even told #52 a story about how he caught someone who was making a drug deal, and told them to leave, or he would call the police. The fact of the matter was that Corky was a liar and hypocrite, because he himself sold and used the same drugs that he condemned.

When they arrived at Fred’s, Corky started to unload the boxes, and Trevor helped him. The meter read $9.40, but the bartender gave his cabbie $20.00 and said, “keep the change.” Driver #52 picked up a couple of drunks, late night Walmart shoppers and other various nocturnal fares, until he noticed that there was a leather pouch in the space between the bucket seats in the van that he was driving.

While he was waiting for a call, Trevor took the pouch and opened the zipper, to find an MP3 player, which he took out. In the space below was a glass pipe and a small clear plastic prescription bag that contained translucent crystals. To the casual observer, this could have been interpreted in a number of ways, but to a NUC scout with telepathic abilities, it was clear. Corky was a methamphetamine user/dealer, who ran off any drug dealing competition, with empty threats of police action, and real threats of outlaw biker retaliation, if the flow of crank slowed down at Fred’s, because of some amateurs.

So #52 pulled into the taxi stall at the Greyhound bus station downtown and listened to some talk radio show’s discussing everything from CIA torture victims to extreme measures for halting the uncontrolled influx of illegal aliens. Then John the dispatcher interrupted his concentration by asking,

“Number 52, did you by any chance find a leather case in your cab?

“Yes,” he answered, “I have a leather case with a zipper in my cab, did the owner call for it?

“Yeah,” John answered, “the bartender at “Fred’s” said that he must have left it in the cab. He said that he’d give you a big tip if you brought it to him.”

“Will do,” Trevor answered, remembering that his instructions from the NUC were to never in anyway obstruct or impede the natural course of events of the planet that they were observing, from occurring, until stage 2 was reached. Their presence was to have as little impact on the evolution of the planet as possible, until that time.

When he arrived at “Fred’s,” it was around 2:00 AM, and Corky was waiting outside for Trevor. Corky gave Trevor a $10.00 bill, as they traded the Hamilton for the leather pouch.


Trevor drove off thinking to himself that it was a strange species that tried to criminalize ingesting substances that occurred naturally or could be produced synthetically by exploiting the periodic table. Whatever the case may be, it didn’t matter, since he was here to collect data to determine whether or not this electrons existence could be directed towards becoming one of the entities servants.