of cooked meat floated into my nostrils as I spotted cabs moving south, all with passengers. Kern also noticed.
"Pick up the pace, Count." Kern's voice had changed from gently cajoling to authoritative. He tapped me on the shoulder and pointed toward the cabs in the southbound lanes. "Look at that. Count 'em. One. Two. Three. Four. There's action at the airport. Let's move."
A certain excitement crept into his voice as we reached the airport access road. "Okay, listen carefully. I got a feeling there may be a big crowd when we get there - "
"How would you know? How can you be sure?"
"Instinct. Intuition. I just know, that's all. Anyway, listen carefully. If there's a crowd of people, do not make eye contact with anybody. If someone tries to hail you before we get to the loading area, do not acknowledge them."
Something sounded improper about that. "But are we not going there for a fare?"
"Yes, but if there's a possible split, we don't wanna blow it by agreeing to take someone before we know where they're going. If they're going downtown, south or west, fine. But if they're going north or east, we're screwed."
I tried to protest, but Kern stopped me.
"You wanna make money, this is a great way to make money, and don't forget, it's all perfectly legal. It would be illegal to refuse service, so that's why we don't consent to take someone until we know where they're going. If we establish that everyone wants a cab, we can pick and choose, but if one person approaches us, we have to take them. Capeesh?"
"Not exactly."
"Don't matter. Just follow my lead."
On the way into the airport, two more cabs passed on the outbound, both full of passengers, their trunks overflowing with luggage, the lids tied down with straps. Kern rubbed his hands together vigorously, a lusty laugh coming deep from within his gut.
The scene at the taxi loading area reminded me of Constantanople when under siege by the Turks. The sudden appearance of an ox cart that might take them to safety had sent people into an excited frenzy, all begging the driver for a ride though he barely had room for himself. Even before the cab came to a stop, people streamed toward us, waving their arms. Following Kern's instructions, I stared straight ahead, fighting hard to ignore the thirty or so people all desiring transportation.
With a loud, throaty laugh, Kern jumped from the cab. "Who needs a cab?" he shouted. The crowd of thirty all raised their hands and shouted in affirmation. He laughed again and turned to me. "Pop the trunk, Count." He grinned broadly, then again faced the crowd. "We can't take you all, but we'll try our best. Okay, who's by themselves and needs a cab?" Several people raised their hands and stepped forward. "Who's going west?" Two people raised their hands. "Where you going?"
"The Radisson Hotel," a man in a gray suit said with a thick drawl.
"The BestWestern Inntowner ," a young woman said.
Kern nodded. "Count, load their luggage into the trunk. Anyone downtown? Campus?" Several hands raised. Kern surveyed them as to their destinations then selected a pair of college students, one man, one woman, both going to separate destinations onLangdon Street .
Momentarily, a not insignificant pile of luggage sat next to the cab. I commenced the task of loading the parcels into the trunk, but had run out of space with half the luggage still sitting on the pavement.
"Having a problem, Count?" Kern asked, after telling the people to be left behind that other cabs would be arriving soon.
"Another thing for you to teach me," I replied, pointing at the overflowing trunk and the pile of luggage still sitting on the pavement.
"Just watch and learn." Kern removed all the luggage, then placed the smaller items along the ledges that surrounded the well inside the trunk. He lifted the three full-sized suitcases and stood them up in the well with the bottom edges sitting against the lip of the trunk, stacked the remaining garment bags atop the suitcases, attached a bungee cord to the lid, pulled it shut and hooked the other end to the bottom of the license plate. Just to make sure the load was secure, Kern yanked at one of the suitcases, then plucked the bungee cord as if it was a violin string.
"Bungee cords," he said with a grin, "they've made me a lot of money over the years."
Kern had finally impressed me, but what kind of situation