WHIRLPOOL 

Maelstrom Mud
By Tessa Harvey


    Helen knew where the buses were, but it was a long walk. She had dressed warmly, but the dawning morning was chill. A taxi drove up near her.
    "Want a ride, lady?" The man was very dark, but looked kind, and she was also dark. Helen tried to whisper, but the driver couldn't hear. Finally he caught the word 'hospital.' As the girl edged gingerly into the back seat, he wondered how much she was hurt.
    An ambulance was parked in a nearby bay. Simon the driver walked over. "Little kid needs help." The driver was eating a grain bread salad sandwich and drinking coffee. He glanced round, crammed the last of the sandwich in his mouth, carefully capped his drink then walked to the taxi. One look and he phoned for help.
    Simon Webster thought 'maybe I could sell this story, get my name in print: Taxi driver finds....' No, tragedy happened all the time. He helped the paramedic ease the girl towards help. Her small hand grasped a crumpled note - she was barely conscious, whispering 'baby.'
    The taxi driver sensed a story here but could not jeopardize his job

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